Saturday, December 17, 2011

Spiritous Sancti

THIS BEING Christmas, many readers with small children will by now be wishing they had sold them at birth to a wholesale baby dealer, as Santa-besotted kiddies are perhaps the best argument for gay marriage and adoptions. Why should be it be breeders alone who must endure week upon week of little people with big voices demanding over and over to be told when Santa will be arriving and what he will be bringing them?

If Young Master Bunyip's childhood behaviour is an indicator, the racket stops only when the young 'uns are crunching on tree ornaments or, as was the case one distant year at the Billabong, being bitten by the dog, whose good nature did not extend to having its dinner interrupted by a candy cane stuffed rudely up the back passage. Even the former Mrs Bunyip sided with the dog on that one, although it was quickly back to form when the Professor informed the little fellow that he had placed himself firmly in the ranks of naughty boys who would not be finding any presents under the tree.

And she was right, absolutely right. In this indulgent day and age, when act and consequence are no longer a matched pair, threatening a lump of coal in the stocking strikes fear in only the dimmest nippers.

But there is a solution. Rather than harping on the consequences of the wouldbe recipients' bad behaviour, silence the kiddies by telling them it is Santa who has been wicked and, unless they redeem his sins with their own exemplary conduct, he will not be allowed down the chimney. And just to drive home the point, show them this little clip of Santa being very naughty indeed.

Such parenting tactics may leave psychological damage, but spare not a thought for that. No child emerges from life's playpen without scars, so at least one of the injuries might as well be inflicted in the cause of a quiet and tranquil home.

And all the hard work has already been done. The little ones will take to it readily Professor. Modifying their pleasures and behaviours in order to save the world from sinners like Santa will come naturally after their climatic indoctrination at Kindy where they grow vegies and recycle and listen to very scary stories so they will want to save the world from the Big Polluders - and here, their instructors have even neglected to tell them that just like Santa, these sinners also bring presents. Presents like a warm house, clothes, toys, a job for mum and dad etc. etc. And also, that it's all a fairy tale.

I carry out my threats. My young fellow knows that from experience. He recently obtained his advance diploma in engineering. All good. But it took him 4 years instead of the two and half. Last week, when asked when he is going to apply for a job and start working full time instead of playing computer games day in and day out, he said he had been studying so hard for so many years he is taking time off for about 6 months before looking for a job. I fixed him nice and proper. He was told that if he does not prepare his resume and show evidence that he has applied for a few jobs, he can return the car that we bought for him (for which we pay the road tax and insurance and servicing),and he should move out to live with his friends by Friday (yesterday). I told him that he can also collect his computer which will be left on the front lawn. He knew I meant every word I said unlike his pandering dad. Hey presto! He finally showed me his transcript, has prepared his resume and has applied for several jobs through the internet. For all his threats of leaving home to get away from us old folks, he has demonstrated that he does want to live with us for free and keep the car. He also helped his dad to clean the gutters and mow the lawn. Try that.

A good friend (since deceased, alas) was sitting at the breakfast table one morning with his family, when he heard his wife (an excitable woman of Cuban extraction) tell their oldest son that if he did 'that' again, she would kill him.

Friend called his wife aside and admonished her: 'Never make threats that you cannot carry out. Logically, we both know that Anthony will do it again. And you will have to kill him or forfeit all credibility.'

His wife nodded. They returned to the breakfast table. Minutes later, Anthony did 'that' again.

His mother stared him in the eye and said, 'OK. If you do it again, I will spit in your milk.'